The Elder's Fables
by Ardent Aspen
Summary: "Come inside, Sparkling. Come out of the rain, or you will rust! Here, while we wait for the storm to pass, I shall tell you a story." tales from the Quadrant 12 colonies (part of the Colony 21186D: Survival universe)
1. Chapter 1

**Trying my proverbial hand at something a little different while I work out the next chapter of Colony 21186D: Survival.**

**Transformers and all related material is property of Hasbro, but the folk tales are property of everyone!**

_Oh! Hello there, Sparkling! I didn't see you there at first. Now, now, don't be frightened. You're not in any trouble, after all. Terrible weather out there, isn't it? Ah, got stuck in the middle of the storm, did you? Well, that's alright. I expect your sire and carrier will be along to get you as soon as I let them know you're here. In the meantime, why don't you come and warm up...what was your designation? Oh, that's right. You play with my grandsparklings in school. Dear me, I'm getting forgetful these cycles..._

_There there, it's only thunder! It can't hurt you, Sparkling. I know! Why don't I tell you a story while we wait for your parents? Would you like that? I thought you might. Very well then, this is the story of a great big Predacon, and an itsy bitsy Scraplet..._

The Predacon and the Scraplet

Long ago, a might Predacon stalked through the canyons of his desert domain, proudly considering his strength. Suddenly, he heard a tiny voice cry out, "Help! Oh someone, please help me!" He followed the sound until he found a Scraplet, caught in an oil slick. As he watched in disgust, it turned its optics to him. "O Mighty Predacon," she squeaked, "I beg you for aid!" "Nonsense," the dragon snorted, "You would only bite me the moment you were free."

"No no!" the Scraplet cried, "I give you my word! If you help me, I swear that one day I will repay the favor!" The Predacon laughed. How could such a tiny creature ever help such a mighty hunter? Nonetheless, he was amused by the Scraplet, and lifted her from the oil slick. Then he went on his way, thinking nothing of it. Some time later, the Predacon was once again walking in the canyons when he was surprised by a party of hunting Decepticons!

They shot at him with their lasers and threw nets at him, trapping the dragon. "Help!" he cried, but it seemed that no one heard. Suddenly, the hunters were swarmed by Scraplets, and quickly disappeared! The very same Scraplet that the Predacon had rescued came to chew through the net herself. "You see?" she asked, "I promised that I would help you one day!" With that, she and her swarm departed, never to be seen again.

_The moral of the story is, never judge someone by their size. Did you like the story, Young One? I'm glad. Well, it seems the storm hasn't let up yet. Here, you sit in my chair while I get you some energon. It's about mealtime, anyway. Slow down, dear, slow down! One question at a time, if you please. Why did the Predacon trust the Scraplet? Well I don't know really, I suppose you'd have to ask him. Yes, I know Scraplets are dangerous, too. That dragon took a risk, didn't he? He certainly ended up better than the poor Turbofox! Oh, you don't know that story? Well I guess I'll just have to tell you!_

The Scraplet and the Turbofox

A long time ago, a Scraplet and Turbofox met at the edge of a wide river of rust. "Carry me on your back, and we shall both make it across!" said the Scraplet. "But how can I trust you?" asked the wary Turbofox, "For you will surely try to eat me!" "No, my friend, I shall not!" protested the Scraplet, "If I should bite you while you swim, you would sink and we would both drown!" And so he persuaded the Turbofox, who took the Scraplet on his back and began to swim.

Halfway over, the Scraplet became hungry, and attacked his benefactor. "Why?" asked the Turbofox as he sank, "Now we will both die!" The Scraplet answered, "Because it is in my nature."

_The moral is, don't be surprised by someone's actions if you already knew what they were going to do. Finished your energon? Oh good. Well, that looks like your sire on the com. Goodness, he looks worried. I'll just be a moment._

_Alright, Sparkling, I'm back! Your sire and carrier are on their way now. When you go to school tomorrow, tell my grandsparklings I said hello, won't you? Really? She did? Oh dear. Well I'm awfully sorry to hear that, I'll just have to talk to her about gossiping. Spreading rumors is no way to make friends! Sometimes talking can get you in trouble, you know, just like the Insecticon scout. Would you like to hear one more story before your parents come? You would? Alright then, listen well..._

The Talking Helm

An Insecticon went scouting one day, out in the wide, wild, world. He passed cliffs and ruins, and came to a field full of rusted husks. He very nearly tripped over a disembodied helm, far from any bodies. "Poor fellow," he said, "How did you get here?" "Brother," it replied, "By talking." The scout was astonished. "A talking helm! What an amazement!" "Do not tell anyone of this," the helm warned, but the scout refused. "No, I will surely tell my chief!" He flew back to his hive to tell the chief of the marvelous talking helm.

Intrigued, the chief gathered his Insecticon warriors and followed the scout to the helm. The chief stood before the helm and spoke: "I am told you can speak, helm. Is this true?" There was no reply. Again, the chief spoke. "I am told that you can speak as the living can, will you not speak to me?" The helm did not reply. "I command you to speak!" cried the chief, but to no avail. At last, he grew angry with the scout. "You have brought me here to humiliate me before my warriors!" he said, "Therefore, your helm will join this one!" And he had the scout executed.

After they'd left, the old helm rolled over to face the new helm. "Poor fellow," he said, "How did you get here?"

"Brother," the scout replied, "By talking."

_Oh, I did not mean to frighten you with this story! Yes, it was unpleasant for that scout, but what the story meant was that telling others' secrets can get us into trouble. Especially if you were asked not to tell! When you go back to school, if the little femme in your class is still spreading rumors, tell her this story. Or better yet, ask your teacher to read it at story time. I would hope she'd take the hint! Well, that looks like your parents. Good bye, little one! I was glad to have the company. Why, yes! You're welcome to visit any time you like! And of course I'll tell you more stories. I have plenty more...this is a library, after all..._

**What'd you think?**


	2. The Battle of the Cassettes

**Next chapter! Did you recognize the three folktales from the first time? Folk tales and archetypal stories have been a hobby of mine since I was probably twelve years old, so I have a ****_lot_**** of favorites to choose from... Oh well, here goes.**

**Transformers are the property of Hasbro, but the folktales belong to everyone!**

_Hello, little one! It is good to see you again. Have you been waiting long? I am sorry, I was coming home from work. Yes, I have to go to work too, just like most grown ones. How is school? My granddaughter isn't still gossiping, is she? No? You're friends now? Excellent! What? Somebody pushed a little human down at recess? That wasn't kind, was it? Oh, you did? Well that was very brave of you to stand up for him! Was the other sparkling bigger than you? Oh, she was, I see. Were you frightened? You weren't? My grandsparklings stood with you? It's nice when you have friends to help you. Yes, you're right, I do have a story about that. Many stories, in fact. Do you want a true story or a folk tale? _

_Oh, you think a folk tale would be more interesting? Well, I don't know about that, but I'll tell you the folk tale anyway. It concerns a young warrior who found himself in a very unusual situation!_

The Battle of the Cassettes

Once upon a time, the son of a king went out to see a battle. _What is a king? That's right, you haven't learned about human governments yet. Well, let's just say that a king is a little bit like a Prime for humans. _The Cassettes and the Scraplets and the Turbofoxes were all fighting each other, and the young mech had promised to tell his sire how the battle ended. In the end, the Scraplets overwhelmed all but a single cassette. The prince intervened and defeated the Scraplets, saving the cassette. In gratitude, the minicon transported him to a great fortress, where they stayed for the night. The next day, the minicon transported the prince to another fortress, where a tall, mysterious mech waited. He thanked the king's son for rescuing the cassette, who was one of his subjects.

As a reward, the stranger gave the prince a mysterious crate, and warned him not to open it until he was in the place he most wanted to be. The young mech thanked him and began the journey home. When he was nearly to his sire's fortress, curiosity overcame him and he opened the box. Out came a fortress easily as big as the king's! A rather nonplussed Predacon appeared and demanded to know why this structure had suddenly arrived on his property. When the prince sheepishly explained what had happened, the griffin offered to put the fortress back in the box-in exchange for one thing: when the prince had a sparkling of his own, he was to give it to the Predacon as soon as it was old enough to have armor.

Rashly, the prince agreed, and then moved the crate to a space near his sire's home. When he opened it this time, a great palace appeared, with a beautiful femme inside, whom the prince married. In time, the femme gave spark to a little mech, and as soon as the sparkling had grown his first set of armor, the Predacon came. The prince and his sparkmate tried to make excuses, to delay the griffin, but in the end were forced to keep their word. They watched in trepidation as the giant creature flew away with their only child.

For many years after, the Predacon raised the prince's sparkling as if he were his own, alongside his three Predacon daughters. One day, when the youngling was nearly full grown, he heard music and followed it to find the griffin's youngest daughter sadly playing her harp. When he asked her what was wrong, she explained that her sire, his foster-sire, planned to betroth him to one of his three daughters. She was worried that he might pick one of her two sisters, when it was she who had always loved him best. The prince's son assured her that she was his choice, and told the Predacon so.

The Predacon was annoyed that his plans had been told early, and wanted to make certain that his foster-son was worthy of his youngest daughter. So he devised a series of near-impossible tests for him. The first day, he set the young mech to clean the entire armory from top to bottom. He warned him that if he failed, he would be off-lined. (Of course, he meant no such thing, but he wanted to see what the youngling would do). Determined to prove himself, the youngling threw himself into the task. He worked hard, but the armory was simply too big for him. Halfway through, the griffin's youngest daughter came to see the young mech, and sang for him. Before he knew what was happening, he had fallen into recharge.

When he awoke, his beloved was gone and the armory was clean. The griffin did not accept this, however, because he knew that the youngling had not finished the task on his own. So he set another: to repair the roof of the fortress with Scraplet teeth. This time, the griffin kept a close watch on his daughters. The young mech didn't know what he would do, until a small cassette suddenly appeared to him. "Rest, o prince's son," it said, "Your sire once aided our people, now we will return the favor." Again, the youngling found himself in recharge, and awoke to a roof thatched with Scraplet teeth.

Frustrated, the Predacon set him one final task: to identify which daughter was the youngest, and the one that he picked would be his sparkmate. This was a trap, for all three looked and sounded exactly alike. The youngest daughter came to the young mech once more, the night before the test. She warned him that it was a trap, and despaired, for she could find no difference between herself and her sisters. The prince's son, however was confident, and encouraged his beloved to bear up under the circumstances.

The next morning, the Predacon lined up his three daughters and said to the youngling, "My daughters are known throughout the system for their beauty. If, as you claim, you truly love my youngest daughter, then you will know her in an instant." The young mech did not hesitate, but held out his hand to the one in the middle. "Each of you is more beautiful than the stars, but this sister's optics shine differently to me." The Predacon relented with a secret smile, for the prince's son had chosen correctly. The minicons escorted the youngling and his beloved to the kingdom of his sire and carrier, where the two were married, and ever after retained the friendship of the Predacons and the minicons.

_Did you like this story? You wanted to hear more about the Predacon's daughter? I see. You want more stories about courageous femmes. Well, there certainly are a lot of those! For now, however, it is time for you to go home, little one. Your parents might start to worry! Come back tomorrow and I will tell you another story. Be safe, Sparkling, stay on the path and don't delay!_

**That last sentence will play into the Librarian's next story...**


	3. Little Red-Armor

**Welcome back! Thank you, everyone who reviewed, it was very encouraging! I think I'm going to enjoy putting in as many folk tales and fairy tales as I can, just to see who recognizes them. By the way, I'm trying not to specify a name or gender for the Sparkling, because then it can be anyone you want it to be-it might even be you!**

**As usual, Hasbro owns the Transformers, the folk tales belong to everyone, and the words belong to me and my imagination.**

_There you are! Thank the Allspark! Are you alright, little one? I'm so glad I found you! Your parents contacted me when you didn't make it home last night. What happened? You got lost? How did this happen? Your home is not so very far from the archives, Sparkling. If you stayed on the path...oh. You didn't, did you? That's how you got lost, then. Oh dear one, you could have been seriously hurt! Your parents are searching the Stone District. Come, let's go and find them._

_Hm? No, little one. I am not angry with you. I must admit, however, that I am wondering why you would leave the path when it is so clearly marked. What is it? Little One? You're very quiet all of a sudden. What? You want to tell __**me**__ a story? Very well, tell me your story._

Little Red-Armor

Ok, there was a little sparkling called Little Red-Armor. Little Red-Armor was a good little sparkling, but always very curious. One day, Little Red-Armor was going home from the Elder's house at the library. The Elder told Little Red-Armor to stay on the path and to go straight home, but I-I mean Little Red-Armor- forgot. On the way from the Archives building, there are lots and lots of pretty gardens, and Little Red-Armor saw a flower that my Carrier would really like. And I reeeally wanted to get it for her, so I-um, I mean, Little Red-Armor, stepped off the path-just for a minute- to pick it! Only, when Little Red-Armor got to the flower, it was further away. And then when I went to get it again, it moved again.

I kept following and following and Little Red-Armor couldn't figure out how the flower was moving. Then the flower stopped moving, but the sparkling was really far away from the path! And there were no houses or anything, just fields. Little Red-Armor picked up the flower, but it was tied to a string, which was weird. And then there was a really scary-looking animal with big optics, and a big snout, and big teeth! So Little Red-Armor ran as fast as possible all the way back to the nearest bunch of buildings and hid under a box in an alley. The next morning, Little Red-Armor's friend the Elder came out to take me back to Sire and Carrier. And Little Red-Armor isn't going to wander off the path anymore. Um, The End.

_Oh my! Well, that's quite a story! I'm glad that "Little Red-Armor" isn't going to wander off the path anymore. I'm going to have to tell the Council about that "scary-looking animal" though. We don't want anyone getting hurt if there are things like that out in the fields. It sounds like you learned a lesson last night, little one. Were you frightened? Yes, I think I would have been too, if I were your age. Well, nothing can hurt you now, Sparkling. Look! There's the Stone District: we're nearly to your parents. Another story? I don't know, Sparkling, you look very tired. You might fall into recharge during the tale._

_You won't? Very well. What kind of story would you like me to tell? Something cheerful? Hmm...ah, I have it! I was on Earth, years and years ago, and a human woman once told me this story. Of course, I have changed it just a little...but that's neither here nor there. This is the story of the Femme who Couldn't Laugh. Oh no, it's a very amusing story, don't worry!_

The Femme who Couldn't Laugh

Once upon a time, there lived a construction overseer and her three sons. The eldest was as strong as ten mechs, and was known throughout the city. The middle son was as strong as five mechs, and was known throughout the work sites. The youngest was not very strong at all, and hardly anyone ever remembered that he existed. He was much smaller than his brothers, who sarcastically referred to him as Titan. The overseer was embarrassed that one of her sons wasn't as strong as the rest of them, and didn't talk about Titan often. One day, the eldest son decided it was time for him to go out into the universe to seek his fortune.

His carrier arranged a grand going-away party for him, giving him a hammer made of titanium and three days of rations. There was a grand send-off, and the eldest mech set off down the highway. He hadn't been driving for long when he came across a very old Cybertronian sitting by the side of the road. "Good day, young one, and where are you off to?" he asked. The overseer's eldest son puffed out his chestplate and boasted that he was going to the capitol where he was certain to become so famous for his strength that the Prime himself would hire him. "Is that so?" asked the old one, "Well, I wish you luck! By any chance, do you have any energon to spare?"

The eldest scowled. "I have energon, but I'll not share it with the likes of you!" The old one did not seem troubled. Instead, he pointed to a great forest of pillars, not far from the road. "If you will only chop down the bronze pillar, then you will find what you deserve," he said. Snorting rudely, the eldest son strode to the pillar and swung his hammer at it. The pillar collapsed, pinning his leg. He bellowed in pain, but no one came; the old mech by the wayside was gone. The eldest was forced to drag his dented chassis home to his carrier: utterly humiliated.

Not too long after, the middle son decided to go out and seek his fortune. His carrier arranged a small going-away party and gave him an ax made of steel and a day's worth of rations. The middle son had not gotten very far out of the city when he came across the old mech by the side of the road. "Good day to you, young mech!" called the old one. "I haven't time to talk, old mech!" the mech blustered, "I'm off to the capitol!" The mech nodded his ancient red helm. "I'll not stop you then," he said politely, "But, do you have any energon to spare? It's been a very long time since I refueled." The middle son frowned thoughtfully. "I'm sorry, old one," he said sadly, "I barely have enough for me. When I get to the capitol, I'll send someone back to help you. I promise."

The old mech motioned to the pillars. "Before you go, you must chop down the silver pillar! It will point you to your destiny." With a questioning look, the middle son took his ax to the silver pillar. With a crash, it fell. At its base was a sack of coins. Gratefully, he took it and went to Iacon, where he became a renowned artisan. The overseer and the eldest son fumed when they heard what had happened. This was when Titan decided it was time to leave home for the first time.

His carrier pushed him out the door with a crude iron staff and a single cube of energon. Titan took his time, enjoying the scenery. After some time, he too came across the ancient mech sitting by the highway. "Good day, Grandsire!" he called cheerfully. "Good day, young one," the mech replied, "Where are you bound?" Titan shrugged. "I suppose anywhere the stars take me," he chuckled. The old one asked him if he had any energon to spare, and Titan fished the single cube out of his subspace compartment. "What I've got is pretty humble," he apologized, "But what we have, we're meant to share." He held it out to the old mech, who took it with a glint in his optics. "What a kind young mech you are," he praised, "If you will only knock down the gold pillar, you will find a reward."

"Oh," Titan protested, "I require no reward, sir." He continued to protest until the old one practically ordered him to collapse the pillar. Upon knocking it over, Titan found something that looked like a petro-rabbit, but with a plumed tail made of red energon. Titan smiled at it. "Hello, little friend!" He picked it up, and tucked it under his arm. He turned to thank the old mech, but his mysterious visitor had vanished! "Well," Titan said to the petro-rabbit, "I suppose we'd better move on." They traveled to an inn, where he took a room for the night.

The innkeeper's sparkmate saw the red energon tail, and desperately wanted one of the plumes for himself. While the innkeeper did her best to distract Titan, her sparkmate tried to pluck a plume from the petro-rabbit. To his surprise, he stuck fast! No matter what he did, he couldn't pull free-not even transforming broke him loose! Titan turned and saw what had happened, and burst into laughter. "Well, my fine fellow," he said, "I suppose you'll just have to come seek your fortune with us!" "Here now," said the innkeeper, "I won't stand for this!" The femme tried to pull her sparkmate away, but her hands stuck to his doorwings! Yelping in dismay, the greedy couple were dragged behind Titan and the petro-rabbit as they left the inn and traveled on.

In the town, a young femme saw the strange procession and scurried to catch up. "Hey! You two ought to be ashamed, hanging on to a mech like that!" she scolded, and laid a hand on the innkeeper's shoulder. Imagine her shock when she too was stuck to the ever-growing line! The further through the town they progressed, the more mechs and femmes got stuck to the line, with Titan laughing hysterically the whole time. He had no idea how it was happening, and he wasn't sure how to make it stop, but he thought it was all good fun.

Now the Prime who ruled Cybertron at the time was very concerned about one of his friends, a warrior femme. She had once lost someone very close to her, and had vowed never to smile or laugh again. The Prime knew that such a thing was not good, and devised a competition among the friends and neighbors of the femme to see who could make her laugh first. The winner would join his elite guard for a day. The femme sourly contributed that the losers had to spend three days in bootcamp with the drill sergeant who had trained her. As time went on, fewer and fewer Cybertronians were brave enough to attempt it.

The Prime was beginning to think that his friend would be frowning for the rest of her life, when he heard a commotion in the city. He looked out over the wall to see a very long line of mechs and femmes in awkward positions, following a young fellow up to the very doors of the fortress. "Hello," the Prime called, "What's going on down there?" The young mech saluted politely. "I have no idea, sir. All these Cybertronians are following me!" The Prime smiled a little. He called to the warrior femme and asked her to open the door, for someone had come to see her.

Resigning herself to another round of bad jokes and strange juggling acts, the femme sighed and pulled open the doors. When she saw the blushing mech outside with his ungainly caravan, she smirked. The smirk turned into a smile, and the smile became a chuckle. Before long, she was sagging against the doorpost, shaking with laughter. Wiping away tears of mirth, she asked, "Who are you, and where have you come from?" Titan introduced himself, giving her his real name-not the one his brothers had given him- and held up the petro-rabbit. "Alright, you little troublemaker," he said with a smile, "I think you'd better let these people go!"

Suddenly, the innkeeper, her sparkmate, the femme from the town, and everyone else found that they could let go. They all hurried off as quickly as they could, embarrassed beyond belief. The Prime joined them at the door. "Why don't you join us here, young one?" he asked. Titan readily agreed, and they all lived a very adventurous life thereafter.

_Sparkling? Ah, asleep. I thought so. Ah, there you are. Here is your sparkling, safe and sound. A bit frightened, but none the worse for wear. Yes, I will be bringing up this matter before the council. I'll have to see if there's anything we can do to make the streets safer for little ones like this. Oh? No, there's no need for that, my friends. I have no doubt you'd have done the same if it had been one of my grandsparklings in this predicament. All the same, I don't think anyone would complain if you kept the child out of school tomorrow. I'm sure you all need a day to recuperate. You should ask the little rascal to tell you about "Little Red-Armor". A pleasant day to you both, farewell._

**Well, there may be more after this ("may" a word here meaning "most likely"). In other news, I've finally worked out what's going to happen in the next chapter of "Colony 21186D: Survival", and I just have to type it out. That should go up sometime this weekend. Happy Weekend, everyone!**


	4. Amalgamous Brings the Sun

**Hello again! **

**I'm going to try to use folktales from different cultures in each chapter. So far, I used some Greek stories (Aesop, and one misattributed to Aesop), one African story, and three European stories. I'd like to use some Asian folktales at some point, and probably a fair amount of Native American folktales. (This next one is based on an Inuit story).**

_Ah, it is a fine day. As beautiful as Cybertron will always be to me, I cannot help but love watching seasons change upon organic worlds. Do you not think so? Yes, I see you there. I've been quite aware of your presence for the last ten minutes, little one. Don't be frightened! Come out, I'm not going to hurt you. Were you afraid I would step on you? Dear me! I haven't lived among humans for so long to suddenly become clumsy! Yes I have. I once lived for three years on Earth. Well, if you don't believe me, that's your affair._

_So you heard from a sparkling that I told stories, did you? Well, your information is correct. You were wondering if I might tell you one, I take it? Very well, come here, little one. It's alright, I won't drop you! That's better, now I can hear you much more clearly. You'll have to tell me what kind of story you want to hear, my young friend. I have a great many to choose from, after all! A story from my planet? Hmm...Ah, I know one you might like. I learned this story from my sire when I was very young indeed._

How Amalgamous Brought Daylight

Long, long ago, when the Cybertronians were new, there was no sun to give them light. They walked their world in complete darkness, for the Fallen had stolen Cybertron's star. He was selfish, and did not wish to share its heat and light with anyone. Then, one day, the Cybertronians went to the remaining Primes and asked for a way to see what they were doing. It was debated for many days, then Alpha Trion said to his brothers and sister, "Is there no one who can go to the moon and retrieve the sun?"

A shadow suddenly materialized in between them. It was the Trickster, Amalgamous Prime. "Do not fear, my siblings," he boasted, "I shall bring you the sun!" He changed himself into a Seeker, and flew for five days and five nights until he came to the moon where the Fallen lived. The Trickster then changed into a Scraplet, so that he could spy on those who held the sun. He saw a lovely femme, the daughter of the Fallen, gathering precious metals on the banks of a river. Amalgamous changed into a nanobot, and attached himself to her wings.

The femme carried the precious metals, and Amalgamous, to the fortress of the Fallen. Inside, a little sparkling played on the floor next to a box that glowed with a golden life. "Ah-ha!" thought Amalgamous Prime, "There is the sun!" Still in the form of a nanobot, he flew to the sparkling and landed in its audial receptor. The little one rubbed at his face, and started to cry. In an instant, the Fallen stood beside him. "Grandson, why do you cry?" he asked in concern. "You want to play with the sun!" Amalgamous whispered to the sparkling. Thinking that the voice had been his own processor, the little mech repeated the request to the Fallen.

"Very well, but you must be careful not to burn yourself," the mighty mech said, and he tied a cable around the sun so that it would not scorch the sparkling. For a time, the little one amused himself by bouncing the ball of light about the fortress. Then, Amalgamous began to slip inside the sparkling's audial receptor and had to dig his claws in tight. The sparkling began to cry again. "Don't cry," his grandsire soothed, "Tell me, what is the matter?" This time, the Trickster whispered in the child's audial receptor, "You want to take the daylight outside!" Once more, the little one repeated the request to the Fallen, who reluctantly agreed. The sparkling went outside with the ball of light, followed by his worried Carrier.

As soon as he had room, Amalgamous Prime resumed his natural form and snatched the sun from the astonished sparkling. He changed into a Seeker again and shot off into space. With an angry roar, the Fallen chased after him. The Trickster was smaller and faster, but the sun was heavy, and he began to lose ground. When he neared Cybertron, he let go of the sun, and it fell between two other stars, who were happy to share their spot in the universe with it. The Cybertronians rejoiced; they could see each other for the first time! To this day, Cybertronians are very polite to Shifters, for they are descended from Amalgamous Prime.

_You think you've heard this story before? Oh, I have no doubt that Earth has many similar tales, but I must ask you: where do the stories come from? You never know, perhaps a Shifter came to your world long before the rest of us did. While the rest of the Primes died at some point or another, no one ever heard what happened to Amalgamous Prime. You know, it wouldn't surprise me at all if he had settled on another world, in another form, enacting his mischief all over again. Hm? Oh, I don't mind. I like telling stories, they make me feel a little younger sometimes. How old am I? Dear one, I think I've forgotten! I suppose I am younger than the Thirteen and older than your grandparents. There, that will have to suffice, I think. Alright then, off you go, school starts soon. You wouldn't want to be late!_


	5. Captain Hyperion of the Lost Light

**Hello and Happy Weekend to everyone!**

**The Elder has asked me to tell you that if anyone wishes him to tell a particular story, they can let him (or me) know using either a review or a private message.**

**(Special thanks to UTHEMAN who inspired this idea)**

**(Basically, this is code for: "There are a ton of folk tales in the world and Ardent Aspen can't decide which one to use next: please help!")**

_Why, hello there, welcome back! I was beginning to think I'd frightened you away, my young friend. You asked me for a tale of the sea, and I admit that my knowledge of such things is more limited than I'd like. You see, the closest thing we have to an ocean is the Sea of Rust, near the Hydrax Plateau. I spent some time in the archives, however, and I found a great many stories indeed! Some of them were a little familiar, such as the Seven Voyages of Sinbad-we have a version called the Seven Voyages of Sentinel Prime. I'm not certain that fits the description, though, as most of Sinbad's adventures take place on land._

_I did find one fascinating tale of a ship that could never make port. Imagine being left to wander for all eternity! I have yet to find a Cybertronian equivalent to the story, however, so I will endeavor to tell it as it is told on Earth, but taking place on my own home world. Please, do not hesitate to tell me if some of the details are not correct._

The Ghost Ship

A ship called the _Lost Light_ was traveling from Tyrest to Altihex, across the Sea of Rust. The captain was called Hyperion. His temper was short, and his stubbornness great. On the day that he set out across the sea, he was warned that a great storm was coming, and he would not be able to navigate around the Hydrax Plateau. Hyperion ignored all the warnings, for he had made up his processor that he would make it to Altihex without stopping once. And once Hyperion made up his processor, he was immovable.

The _Lost Light_ made good time, at first, and spirits were high among the crew. Then, the storm came, sweeping over their vessel with terrible power. Tossed back and forth like a Sparkling's toy upon waves of rust, the crew cried out to Hyperion. "We must turn back," they reasoned, "We shall be destroyed!" But Hyperion would not hear of it. Cajoling and threatening by turns, he convinced them that they could outlast the storm, and that they would soon make Altihex. He was wrong.

The winds began to howl over the hull of the _Lost Light_, and the plating began to creak as the rust began to eat through. Horrified, the crew whispered among themselves, "Hyperion is mad! We will certainly be dashed upon the coast!" And they begged him to steer the ship into a protected cove, and not to attempt sailing around the Hydrax Plateau. The captain was enraged, and declared them all to be mutineers. He ordered them off the bridge, and single-handedly took over steering of the _Lost Light._

A friendly vessel was sent from the shore to the _Lost Light_'s aid, but they were turned away. The last thing the would-be rescuers saw before the _Lost Light_ disappeared into the storm was Captain Hyperion, frantically rushing from post to post on the bridge, wildly cursing the storm. In the midst of the waves and the wind and the acid rain, one brave crewmate dared to come once more to the bridge. "Captain, will you not turn back?" she asked. "No! A thousand times no!" Hyperion screamed, "May the Thirteen be witness: let me be eternally cursed if I do, and sail this sea until Cybertron's end!"

A brilliant light blinded the captain and the crewmate. When it faded, Vector Prime stood on the bridge before them. "I grant your wish, Hyperion, Captain of the _Lost Light_," he said sternly, "As you have spoken, so shall it be!" And so the ship, her captain, and her crew are bound to sail the Sea of Rust until the end of time. On stormy nights, if one dares to venture to the edge of the Hydrax Plateau, one might just catch a glimpse of the doomed ship, still sailing and never reaching a destination.

_You don't think that Captain Hyperion is scarier than the Flying Dutchman? Well you can't say that, you haven't seen him! No, I haven't see him, and I sincerely hope I never do. If I did, I might begin to question my sanity, seeing as I only just made that story up! Oh, you think that's amusing, do you? Well, I suppose it is, a little. Imagine a great old mech like me, thinking I saw make-believe monsters!_

_Ah, it is a fine afternoon. Have you nothing else to do today, little one? In a departure from the usual, neither do I. Would you like to come to the archives with me? I will show you where the stories are located, and if you wish me to tell you one, you need only point it out to me. All settled then? Very well, hold on tightly!_


	6. Ghost Stories

**Hi everyone! I believe a request was made for ghost stories? Not my forte, but the Elder has been searching the archives and says he's found some interesting ones. I have infiltrated this chapter and asked, however, that he tell my favorite ghost story first...it's kind of a funny one :D **

_What's that you've got, young one? Ah, that's a book of ghost stories from varying cultures. But surely you don't want me to read you this! You're sure? Well, will you be frightened if I read these? No, eh? Then again, humans are a great deal more resilient than we give you credit for. Very well, I will read them. Oh look, we have an eavesdropper! Hello to you too, my friend! You want to hear the story as well, do you? Just one before you go then, I see. Well, I'll make it a good one._

The Ghost of the Bleeding Armor

Once upon a time, a very old femme lived in a hovel on Praxis. _What's Praxis? That's an organic world near Cybertron. _One stormy night, she was sitting at her front door when suddenly the sky turned black, and the thunder cracked, and a voice came howling over the moors: "**I'm the Ghost of the Bleeding Armor, and I'm coming coming coming!**"

The old femme became worried, and she went inside and shut the door. Surely, it was only the wind playing tricks on her audial receptors! She waited for a few moments, and when she heard nothing more, she relaxed. She took up a cube of energon and settled into her chair happily. Then the room went dark, and the thunder barked, and a voice came howling over the moors: "**I'm the Ghost of the Bleeding Armor, and I'm very nearly there!**"

The old femme dropped her cube of energon in fright. She pushed her chair in front of the door and covered the window. Then she waited, but even when she didn't hear anything, she didn't relax. The femme went into her kitchen and sat on the floor beneath a counter to wait. Suddenly, her chair broke in half, and the thunder laughed, and a voice came howling from very nearby: "**I'm the Ghost of the Bleeding Armor, and I'm in your front yard!**"

The old femme cried out and ran into her quarters. She shut the door and locked it, then hid under her recharge bunk. For a while, all was silent, but it couldn't last. Suddenly, something sneered, and the thunder cheered, and a voice came howling from right. Over. Her. Helm. "**I'm the Ghost of the Bleeding Armor. Have you got a cloth? It's dripping everywhere."**

_Yes, I agree. That was a silly story, but sometimes it helps to laugh at scary things, doesn't it? Oh, was that the only one you wanted to hear? Well, my little friend, let's say goodbye to our visitor. Let's see now, wasn't there one you were about to ask for before? Trains, hmmm. Well, I'm not sure I've ever seen a train on Cybertron, except as an alt-mode. I suppose we probably had trains at some point, though. I've seen the old tracks down near the mines of Kaon. They're a little disconcerting in and of themselves, you know. Just two steel girders, trampled into the planet's surface, leading into nowhere. You're right: when I put it that way, it does have the makings of a good story. Let me see if I can't expand that a little._

The Shadow Train

In the days when the caste system held sway in Cybertron, not everyone could be a miner. But one young femme from Altihex decided to try her hand at it, certain that she would strike it rich on her first go. All the good places in Kaon were already being developed into mines, so she decided to head off on her own and explore the nearby wastelands. The femme wandered into a maze of canyons, however, and soon became hopelessly lost. The walls of the land formations were blocking her internal navigating system, making it impossible to even know what direction she was driving in.

After four days in the canyons, she began to wear out her energon reserves, and her systems became dangerously overheated. Barely able to drive in a straight line, the femme knew that if she didn't find shelter and fuel soon, she would go offline. The land seemed to shift and waver before her hazy optics, but she doggedly struggled onward. At last, the miner collapsed on the ground and gave herself up for dead. Suddenly, she heard the puffing of a train! "I must be malfunctioning!" she thought to herself, "There are no tracks here, and no town for leagues!"

Still, the sounds of the train grew louder and louder. A shadow, darker than the sky at night, fell over her, and a single red light shone from the front of the vehicle. The miner began to tremble, for she was directly in the path of the oncoming transport. She wanted to move, but she only had enough strength to raise one hand above her helm. The train screeched to a halt, and a pleasant looking mech stepped out. He stood over the femme, looking at her with a compassionate smile. Strong arms lifted her from the canyon floor and carried her into the train, where someone else took her from the conductor.

They laid the femme on one of the seats, and several strange faces hovered over her. "Energon!" she croaked, then her system shut itself into stasis lock. She awoke some time later to find a tall, grim mech tending to her frazzled systems. Seeing that she was awake, he held a cube of energon to her lips, ensuring that she did not drink too quickly. When the femme could finally speak again, she rasped, "What happened?" The silver mech shrugged. "Found you in stasis lock, about five kliks from town." The femme was confused. "Wait, where am I?" "Maccadams, in Kaon," he answered gruffly, "You must've really scrambled your sensors if you can't remember where you were headed!"

"Is Maccadams a stop on the railway?" she asked groggily. The bigger miner frowned. "What are you talking about? There are no trains out here! Haven't used them for generations." The femme's optics widened, but she decided not to say anything, lest the large mech think her crazy. "You'd better rest awhile longer," he advised, handing her another cube of energon, "I think your processor needs defragmenting." The femme left the mining profession forever, and settled into a life working in her local archives, but she never forgot the shadow train, performing one last duty before vanishing into history.

_What did you think? You want to know who the silver miner was? Oh, let me see...I think his name was D-16. Yes, he has another name, you can ask if you like, but you'd have to go to Kaon to do so. Oh, do not make that face at me, young one! I am allowed to have a sense of humor, am I not? What was that? __**What?!**__ Where did you hear that word?! Sparkeaters are not something to joke about, Little One! Where did you hear about them? A little girl in the street was talking about them? Please, I need to know how many people know about them. Curiosity about such matters will only bring pain, I promise you. I understand that you are confused, believe me, but I am trying to protect you, Little One._

_Please, child: do not ask me about them. For myself, I wish never to remember the things I learned. Oh, oh please do not look so distraught, my child! Come, do not be angry. Here, pick another story. Any story you like, I will read it to you. Oh dear, you are determined to frighten yourself one way or another, aren't you? Very well. As I have promised, so shall I read._

The Black Cyber-dog of the Smelting Pits

There was a settlement in Kaon near to the Smelting Pits where a huge black Cyber-dog could sometimes be seen. It would follow travelers for miles, and then vanish into thin air. Some thought is was lucky, and some called it the Hunting-Hound of Unicron. The mechs and femmes of the town had a saying: "And if a mech shall see the Black Cyber-dog once, it shall be for joy. If he shall see it twice, it shall be for sorrow. Three times, and he shall die."

A warrior named Straxus did not believe in the superstitions of the town, and traveled from Kolkular to enter a competition of strength that was to be held in the small city. As he drove through the streets, he saw mechs, femmes, and sparklings turn their helms away and cover their optics, lest anything had followed him. Sure enough, a monstrous hound ran at his side, easily matching speed with him. Straxus transformed and patted the dog roughly. "Alright then, old thing," he said cheerfully. He walked a little further, and turned to see if the Cyber-dog was following. It was nowhere to be seen.

"Fast fellow," he said, and inquired after lodgings. As he sat in the tavern that evening, a messenger arrived and asked if he was Straxus. When the mech replied that he was, the messenger said, "I bring you word from your sparkmate, who was expecting. She has given spark to a healthy child: you have a daughter!" Overjoyed, Straxus ordered drinks for the whole room and raised his tankard in a toast to his sparkmate and daughter. As he downed the concoction, his optic fell upon a shape at the window. It was the Cyber-dog, watching him with wide, white optics.

As he sat back down, a second messenger rushed in asking for him. "Sir, I bring terrible news!" he cried, "Your sparkmate, who was expecting, has died suddenly!" Stricken, Straxus asked after the fate of his sparkling. "She lives, but if you do not hurry back to Kolkular, she will be raised by another!" Straxus paled. He rapidly paid for the drinks and sped out of the town without ever joining the competition. As he drove past the Smelting Pits, he heard the sound of running feet behind him, but dared not look back. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped. Fearfully, he risked a glance behind, but the road was empty. Sobbing with relief, Straxus revved his engines and plowed onward until he had nearly reached his home. He never reached the door.

The next day, the medic who had been taking care of the sparkling found Straxus's empty husk lying on the front doorstep, with a great black Cyber-dog sitting beside him, watching her. Startled, the femme jumped back inside and code-locked the door, calling authorities. As it was determined that Straxus and his sparkmate had no next of kin, the custody of the sparkling was given to the medic, who had always wanted a child of her own. Blessing the Creator for her good fortune, she tucked the little one into her arms and left the empty house, and did not see the Cyber-dog sitting in the doorway behind her.

_Little One? Little One? Where are you? Oh! How did you get in there? Oh, oh dear. Are you stuck? Well don't move, just give me a moment. No, I can't move either, my plating will shift and it might crush you! Ah, there's someone! Yes, would you mind, I'm afraid this is a rather unusual request... You see, ah...Little One, wave your hand for a moment. There! See? Obviously, I can't move. You have smaller hands, would you mind removing our young friend from under my armor?_

_Stop laughing! I have no idea how it happened, but I do not find this situation amusing! Oh, thank you! Yes, you may go. And Jazz, I had better not hear anyone talking about this tomorrow! There, are you alright, Little One? The story was a little scarier than you thought, wasn't it? No? You were just cold? I see. Well, if you say so, child. It has certainly grown dark out...Do you need me to take you home? Of course I don't mind! It'll be quicker if I drive, after all. Come along then, dear one. We'll have you home in no time at all. There we are then, Little One. Fear no nightly noises as you sleep tonight, child. Nothing can harm you as long as I am here._


	7. The Gift of the Primes

**Hello again to everyone! I'm on a writing spree right now, this is my second chapter posted in as many days! Goodness gracious me... I love writing :)**

**So, AutoCon4Ever requested the first of the two stories in this chapter, and the second one popped into my head late this morning.**

_Oh, good morning, Sparkling. You have not been to visit in some time! Have you been enjoying your break from school? I know you had a few days off, my grandsparklings were visiting. Yes, my granddaughter told me about the sleepover. It certainly sounds like it was an eventful evening! How long did it take to get the green paint off? Well, I suppose one must always take older cousins into account when one is in the pranking mood. "It does not do to leave a live dragon out of one's calculations", a great human author once said. Hm? Oh, his name was Tolkien. Well, it isn't a funny name to him!_

_Why do you look sad, Sparkling? You gave up your favorite toy today? Why did you do that? To give to the children who don't have families? Oh, what a tender-sparked child you are, dear one. Oh! He did? I'm sorry, little one. I know you don't want to be reminded for a little while. Still, you reminded me of something that happened to a couple during the War for Cybertron, many many years ago..._

The Gift of the Primes

In the days of the War for Cybertron, the Autobots and Decepticons found themselves scattering across the galaxy as their planet was damaged by countless battles. On the side of the Autobots, there were two soldiers, who were sparkmates. Their names were Ironhide and Chromia. They had found themselves stationed in a humble outpost on an asteroid far from their home, and they had little money to spend on themselves. They each had one possession that they were especially proud of: Chromia had a cameo made from a piece of crystal from her home town. Ironhide had an antique pistol that had been passed down from soldier to soldier from the days of the Thirteen.

It was nearing the anniversary of the day the two had become sparkmates, and each worried about what to get the other as a present. Ironhide was sent with a patrol to another asteroid base, leaving Chromia enough time to travel to a nearby planet that still traded with Cybertronians. She wandered from shop to shop until she found what she thought was the perfect gift for her husband: a weapon upgrade for his antique gun. However, she did not have the money required to purchase the upgrade. So she sold her crystal cameo, and used the money to buy the upgrade, then she returned to the asteroid outpost.

When Ironhide came home, she presented him with the weapon upgrade. He looked at her in surprise. "I don't have the gun anymore, Chromia," he said, "I sold it to buy a chain so you could wear your cameo around your neck!" Chromia was shocked, and both were a trifle embarrassed. Soon, however, they were laughing about it. They realized that the gifts themselves did not matter: what mattered was that now they could see the lengths they were willing to go for the one that they loved.

_Yes, that was a true story. You can ask them if you like, they still laugh about it. In fact, Chromia brings out that chain every anniversary to show her friends. True stories can be just as interesting as the folk tales sometimes, you know. You want an example? Well, alright...let me see. What do you know about Sentinel Zeta Prime? He was a bad Prime? Well, that's one way of putting it. Do you know how he became a Prime? No, I don't expect you'll find it in any of our history books. Only one mech chronicled the event, and that was Alpha Trion. Goodness only knows where his book is now, but he told me the story once when I was young. It happened a very, very long time ago..._

Sentinel becomes a Prime

Now, at this time there was no Prime in Iacon, and every mech did what was right in his own optics. The people of Cybertron did what was evil in the sight of their Maker, and so Alpha Trion was sent to warn them that they were doing wrong. "We have no one to look to!" the Cybertronians said, "Give us a Prime to lead us!" Alpha Trion was exasperated. "Am I Primus, that I have the authority to grant the rank of Prime?" he scolded, "No! You were given laws, why do you not follow them?" But they did not listen, and demanded that someone be given the title of Prime.

"Very well," the Scribe said, "You will choose one from among you to be the Prime, but you will be subject to his laws. If your chosen Prime does not turn out the way you expect, you have no one to blame but your own selves, because you did not wait for Primus to choose your leader." "So be it," the Cybertronians said. And they asked Alpha Trion to tell them how they would know their new leader. Alpha Trion consulted his book of prophecy and returned to them. "The Prime you have chosen will come to the city carrying his wounded brother, and he will ask you for a staff to support him," he said to the council leaders.

Now, in a city not far away from Iacon, there lived a mech with five sons. They helped their sire load cargo into transports every day. On this day, the eldest son tried to lift a crate that was far too heavy for him, and it fell back on top of him. There was no clinic for miles, nor was their a medic in their town. The second eldest son, Zeta, took his brother on his back and carried him to Iacon. When he arrived, there was a great crowd of Transformers standing in the city square. "Surely there is a clinic here somewhere," Zeta said to his brother.

He pushed his way through the crowd, and nearly fell several times. Frustrated, he asked for a staff so that he and his brother would not fall. The mech he had asked was Councilor Ratbat, who remembered what Alpha Trion had said. Triumphantly, he led Zeta to the rest of the Council, who appointed him Sentinel Zeta Prime, leader of Cybertron. Zeta was astonished: he had not intended his day to end like this! All the same, he embraced the role of Prime quickly, and did many great things for his planet at first. He even fought back an invasion of the Quintessons when he was still quite young! But the power began to corrupt him, and he enforced stricter and stricter laws upon his people. It was he who decreed that Cybertron be split into castes, the system that oppressed the Cybertronians until two young mechs stood up against him, many many years later.

_But that is a tale for another day! You see? History can be as exciting as a made-up story. You still prefer folk tales? Well, you are welcome to, Sparkling. Just remember: Those who do not learn from their history are doomed to repeat it. It means that those who ignore the things that happened in the past usually end up making the same mistakes over and over again. For example, Megatron did not learn from Sentinel Zeta Prime's bad example, and tried to enforce his own laws on his people. But you didn't come here to listen to stories about the War! Forgive me, sometimes I get caught up in my memories...Have you any other stories you wish me to tell? _


	8. A Tale of the Manganese Mountains

**Salutations to you all! Can I just stop for a moment and say how much I appreciate readers and reviews? You guys totally make my day! **_Also: If you go to the Tfwiki and search "Predaking", read the captions for the photos. All but one are lines from Tolkien's "The Hobbit", spoken either by or about Smaug. Talk about fitting! (Especially since I JUST finished reading that out loud to my sister.) And if you look up Airachnid, the caption of the first picture you see is: "__There once was a spider who knew how to fly / I don't know why the spider could fly / Perhaps you'll die"_

**On to business then: Our stories for today are both based on Native American folktales. One was requested by TFPKO Fan Girl, and one was requested by Foxbear.**

_What in the name of the Maker is going on out there? It sounds as if someone is trying to beat the roof in! Is that...no, I must be mistaken. But it sounded very like...cannon fire. No! It cannot be! Those days are over. It is only thunder, from some storm-cell, echoing past my chamber door. Only this, and nothing more. What was that? Was that a child? Little One! What are you doing here? It is the middle of the night, my child! Quickly, come inside. Does your family know where you are? No, no I am well. I thank you for your concern. You were worried about me? Why?_

_Ah. So you heard about that. Well, I still have to find out how you keep learning of Sparkeaters, but I am sorry that you had nightmares. No, Little One, I was not injured. Not physically. Oh, I couldn't give you a reason. No one really knows why he did what he did. I suppose it comes down to a matter of evil in the end. Because, Little One, there is evil in this universe, and there shall be evil in this universe until the end of all things. Evil is diametrically opposed to good, my child, and shall do everything in its power to corrupt and destroy in any way that it can. _

_Forgive me. These are not comforting thoughts in the dark of night. But all will be well, my child. In the end, one shall stand and one shall fall, and I promise you this: the evil one is not the victor. Not in this, or any time. Come here, dear one, you are shivering! There, is that not warmer? Yes, Little One, that is my spark. Hush, child. It is only thunder. Shall I tell you a story? Yes, I think that would be appropriate. I know of one, I believe...it's an Insecticon legend,so some of the characters may be a little different from the way they are in other stories._

A Tale of the Manganese Mountains

In the remote Manganese mountains on Cybertron, there is one peak that stands out from the others. It is what we call a caldera: it was once a volcano, but now it there is a lake in its dormant crater. The In'zek'tik'n who live there say that it is the prison of Thunderwing, the herald of Unicron. Long ago, Thunderwing controlled the Underworld, and Prima controlled the upper world. Thunderwing used the top of the volcano as his portal whenever he went to wreak havoc upon the Cybertronians below.

There came a day when, as Thunderwing flew over the terrified people, one caught his optic. She alone would not cower before him, and he was drawn to her beauty. Thunderwing followed her to her hive, and discovered that she was the only youngling of their leader. It could hardly be said that Shrapnel was pleased to see that Thunderwing wished to court his daughter. Of course, he would have been displeased with any suitor at all, but the Herald of Unicron was most certainly not welcome in his home! Shrapnel's daughter rejected Thunderwing because he was hideous, both in appearance and in spark.

Furious, Thunderwing vowed that she would regret her decision and laid waste to her hive and the surrounding lands. He brought the scourge of dark energon upon the In'zek'tik'n, and many of them died. Worried, Shrapnel flew to the highest mountain and reached out to the stars, begging Prima for aid. Prima came down to the land in a thunderstorm, terribly angry with Thunderwing for attacking the Cybertronians. There was a great battle between the two, and in the end, Prima slew Thunderwing and threw him down into the portal in the mountain. Then, to ensure that no Underdweller could ever harm his people again, Prima collapsed the top of the mountain and filled it with rain as a sign of peace. To this day, the In'zek'tik'n people gather at the caldera once every century to remember the battle between good and evil.

_You see, Little One? Evil does not triumph. Ah, you have fallen asleep. I thought perhaps you might. I should inform your family, you know. Sooner or later they will discover your absence. But...I find that I cannot bring myself to wake you. You look so peaceful, human child, and as I have seen so little peace in my life, I shall not disturb your rest. This has happened before, Little One. I was telling stories to a little Sparkling I know, and that one fell asleep as well! Perhaps it is my voice...if that is the case, perhaps I shall tell another story, so that you continue to sleep peacefully. And so that this old warrior will have an excuse, should someone ask why I am talking to myself._

The Princess of Trypticon Falls

In the days before the War, long _long_ before Zeta became Sentinel Prime, and when most of the Thirteen still lived, there was a tribe of Predacons. Now, they could transform and speak just as well as any other Cybertronian, but they kept to themselves, and never revealed their intelligence to outsiders. The tribe was led by a fierce warrior named Ser-ket, who had a daughter named Ripclaw. Ripclaw was very dear to her Carrier, because Ser-ket's sparkmate had perished in battle, and Ripclaw was the only family she had left. Ser-ket very carefully chose a suitor for her daughter from among the Predacon tribes.

Grimwing, an honorable warrior, won the spark of Ser-ket's daughter, and their people rejoiced. As the time drew near for Grimwing and Ripclaw to become sparkmates, a great celebration was held in the Predacon settlements, marked by races and contests of strength and song. Seven nights and seven days the merriment lasted, and then tragedy struck. A great sickness spread over the tribe: first sparklings and younglings, then elders fell ill and off-lined. Grief-stricken, the Predacons consulted omens and asked questions of the stars, wondering how this had happened. Now, you must remember that in those days there was no Prime in Iacon, and no one ever knew when they would see Alpha Trion next, so they could not ask advice of them.

For three days the sickness continued and Predacons died, and then a very ancient mech came to them and said, "This is what my Sire told me. My Sire was a seer in the youth of the Thirteen, and before he died he told me a secret. He said to me that for many centuries we would have peace, and then on the eve of a bonding ceremony a great sickness would fall upon the Predacons. The only way to end the death is for a young warrior of pure spark to give up their life for the others. That is the secret my Sire told me." And then the old one was silent, and never spoke again. Ser-ket was grieved, and called forth all the young warriors, including Ripclaw. She told them what the elder had said, and what would have to be done to save their people. "Know this," she said to them, "No matter what happens, the Predacons will face their end bravely. Far better that we die together as a family than one die alone."

The sickness spread, and Ripclaw began to wonder whether something ought to be done about it. Then one day, Grimwing began to show the symptoms of the plague. As Ripclaw tended to him, wiping the creeping rust from his helm, she made up her mind. In the dead of night she left a bowl of energon beside her beloved and flew to a cliff that loomed over her village. She held out her arms and cried, "You who have brought sickness upon us, whomever you shall be, take my spark and leave my people! If you will accept that I wish my people to live in exchange for my life, show me!" As she watched, the moon rose faster than it ever had before until it hung over her helm. She smiled.

The next day, the sickness was gone! "How has this happened?" the Predacons asked each other. Ser-ket's energon ran cold. She summoned the young warriors of the tribes and soon discovered which one was missing. Grimwing flew to the cliff top, followed by all the tribe. There they found Ripclaw, and there they buried her. Then Ser-ket prayed to their Maker, "Show us some sign that Ripclaw's sacrifice was not in vain, and that my daughter is at peace." No sooner had she finished speaking than a rumbling roar shook the ground, and over the edge of the Trypticon cliffs a bright river of energon began to flow. To this day, though it has dried to merely a small spring, the falls remain. It is said that on clear nights when the moon hangs right at the edge of the cliff, the Predacon princess dances among the droplets with Grimwing once more.

_It is a sentimental tale, I grant. I suppose I have become a bit sentimental of late...still sleeping, my child? All is well. Tomorrow I shall have to find out how you made it all the way up here on your own in pitch darkness. You seem to be very good at escaping detection, my young friend! Perhaps when you are a little older, I shall speak to some friends of mine about training you to use that skill...Or perhaps not. You have quite some time yet before you need to make any such decision. I only pray there will still be peace by that time...Ah, but listen to me ramble on. What a pessimist I am becoming! The storm is upon us, and the rain shall make the flowers grow tall. It is summer, and life is good._


	9. Brother Moon stories

**The website has been a little odd of late. It takes some of my private messages and scrambles them terribly! For instance, if I wanted to say "She asked me what Sparks were and was surprised by the answer", it would come out as "She asked were surprised by the answer". Very odd, and rather irritating. According to EmoPirateLuv and UTHEMAN, it would seem that it has something to do with using periods. As in, if you use them, words disappear. O_O The site does not like grammar?**

**The stories in this chapter are based on the ones my father would tell me when I was young. As such, the narration is a little different, because I want them to actually sound the way they did when they were told to me.**

_Good morning, Little One. You slept right through last night's storm, you know! Yes, you've been here the whole time. Now that you're awake, you ought to call your family, I think. They're probably worried about you, which reminds me: How in the worlds did you make it all the way up here in the dead of night with a storm approaching? You don't know? You were just scared? Well, I suppose that's reason enough. Here, down you go! You sit there on the windowsill, and I'll see if I can't find you something to eat. Why of course I have human food! I like to be prepared for guests, I'll have you know!_

_That? That's a picture of my youngest son, when he was little. Well thank you! What's he holding? That was his favorite toy for a long time. It's Brother Moon, the Maximal. Never heard of- Well bless my Spark! Those were some of my sparklings' favorite stories. Remember? Well of course I remember them, Little One! I am not __**that**__ old! Ah, I see, clever child. You wish me to tell you one, but you don't wish to __**seem**__ like you are asking. Very well, eat your breakfast and I shall tell you some of the Brother Moon (or as he's more commonly known, "Bro'er Moon") stories._

Brother Moon fools Brother Waspinator

Now, Brother Moon was a Maximal, and what's more, he was a rabbit. He was as quick and as clever as any rabbit born on an organic world, and twice as sneaky! If he had one weakness, it was energon cubes. He would do anything to get them, even if it steal! Now, Bro'er Moon went walking one day, and he found a little settlement that processed energon. The mech who harvested the crystals was at work in the mines, but his sparkmate and sparkling were home to watch the crop. The sparkling, whose name was Little Bright, was told to stay outside and not let any strangers in through the gate.

Well, along comes Bro'er Moon, and "Oh!" he says, "What I wouldn't give for some of that energon!" And he leans over the fence and he calls, "Little Bright, Little Bright, won't you let me in?" But Little Bright was a smart little femme, and she said, "No sir! You're a stranger! I know you just want the energon cubes." Well, Bro'er Moon didn't count on this, no sir, he didn't! But Bro'er Moon was nothing if not clever, so he leans even further over the fence and says, "You're real smart, Little Bright. I bet your Carrier told you not to let any strangers in, didn't she?" And Little Bright says, "Yeah, that's right." So Bro'er Moon says, "Well I bet she must've forgotten to tell you about family!"

Now, Little Bright knows her sire is on his way home from the mines about now, so she decides to stall. "What do you mean," she asks, "What family?" Well that sneaky Maximal answers, "Why, me of course! Didn't you know, Little Bright? I'm your uncle Moon!" And of course, he was no such thing, and of course Little Bright knew it. But Little Bright could see the tip-top of her sire's helm coming over the top of the hill, so she skips over to the gate and she unlatches it. "Well, come on in, Uncle Moon!" she says, and real quick, dodges out of the way.

Bro'er Moon runs in and looks at all those energon cubes, and he just can't decide which one to grab first. Well that's when somebody grabs _him_! "Bro'er Moon," says Little Bright's sire, "You're in a heap of trouble! What're you doing, tricking little sparklings like that?" And he popped Bro'er Moon into a sack and hung the sack from the fence post. "You wait in there 'til after I have dinner with my family," the miner scolded, "And when I come back, I'm going to throw you in the river!" Bro'er Moon doesn't like the sound of that, not one bit! But he can't get out of the sack, it's tied tight! Well by and by, who should come flying along but Bro'er Wasp.

"Hello, Bro'er Moon," he laughs, "Got yourself in trouble again, didn't you?" "Why no, Wasp, no!" the Maximal laughs right back, "I'm just waiting for the Thirteen!" Bro'er Wasp isn't sure what to make of this, and he says so. "Oh, didn't you know?" that sneaky Bro'er Moon says, "If you wait in a sack on a post like this, the Thirteen come and take you to Iacon to be a Prime!" Being a Prime sounded like a mighty fine idea to Bro'er Wasp, so he says, "Oh please, Bro'er Moon, take me with you!" And Bro'er Moon said, "Oh, I'm sorry, but there's only room for one in here!" Bro'er Wasp was very upset, and he says, "I'll give you three cubes of energon if you'll let me take your place!"

Bro'er Moon pretends to be reluctant, and takes his time before agreeing. So Bro'er Wasp lets Bro'er Moon out of the sack, and takes his place. Bro'er Moon ties the top of the bag good and tight, then scampers off with the energon, very pleased with himself. Then the miner comes back and he grabs that sack. "This is it!" says Wasp, "I'm going to Iacon!" "Well, you're going somewhere, all right!" says Little Bright's sire, and he throws that sack in the river. As you can guess, Bro'er Wasp was good and mad at Bro'er Moon, and decided to get even with him. But that's another story.

_You thought my Bro'er Wasp voice was funny, did you? Well, it's nice to see you laughing, Little One. Yes, Bro'er Moon wasn't being very kind to poor old Wasp, was he? Well, you see, Bro'er Moon is a Trickster character, like Amalgamous Prime. Sometimes he's good, and sometimes he's bad, and you never know which one it's going to be! But you can't really blame him in the end, because he's so amusing. Would you like to hear what happened next? Bro'er Wasp didn't just sit around and sulk, you know! Very well, listen closely..._

Bro'er Moon and the Web-sparkling

Now, after that business with the sack and the river, Bro'er Wasp was out to get Bro'er Moon. He goes to see his friend, Sis Spider. Well Sis Spider isn't too fond of Bro'er Moon either, seeing as he broke her spark once. So she decides to help Bro'er Wasp get back at him. They went into the woods and waited for Bro'er Moon. After a while, here he comes, hopping down the path. Sis Spider made a Web-sparkling and set it down where Bro'er Moon was sure to see it. Sure enough, he sees the web-sparkling and he says, "Hello there, little fella!" Only, Web-sparkling doesn't answer.

"What I said was, Hello there, little fella!" Bro'er Moon repeated. Web-sparkling didn't answer, and Bro'er Moon thought that was pretty rude. Then he thinks, maybe he can't hear me! So up he goes and taps the web-sparkling on the shoulder. Well his hand gets stuck! "Hey now, Web-sparkling! You let go of my hand!" says Bro'er Moon. And he puts his other hand down to try and pry off the first one. Well, then _that_ one gets stuck! "Hey now," he says, getting angry, "You let me go!" But Web-sparkling doesn't do anything, he's just made of webs!

Then he hears laughing. Down from the tree comes Bro'er Wasp and Sis Spider, and they're just laughing and laughing at him. "Who's stuck now, Bro'er Moon?" asks Wasp. He leans over and he says, "You know what, Bro'er Moon? I'm going to throw you in the river, just like what happened to me!" "Only this time," says Sis Spider, "You're going to be all stuck to Web-sparkling and you won't be able to move!" Well that just sounds like a terrible idea to Bro'er Moon, and he starts thinking of a way to get out of this. Then he says, "Oh, the river! Thank the Allspark, I thought you were going to throw me in the mines!" Sis Spider looks at Bro'er Wasp. Bro'er Wasp looks at Sis Spider. "What's all this about the mines?" they say.

Well, now Bro'er Moon knows he's got them interested, so he starts howling and crying, "Oh please, _please_ don't throw me down the mineshaft! Throw me in the river or feed me to Bro'er Rampage but please oh _please_ don't throw me down the mineshaft!" _I see that giggle, Little One. You know what's coming, don't you? Well you'd better breath soon, or you won't hear the end of the story! _Bro'er Wasp and Sis Spider pull Bro'er Moon off that Web-sparkling and they drag him down to the mines, and the whole way he's shouting, "Don't throw me in the mines, Sis Spider! Don't do it, Bro'er Wasp!"

"Stop your crying, Bro'er Moon," Sis Spider says, "We're going to throw you down the mineshaft and there's nothing you can do about it!" So they give a "heave ho!" and down he goes! And they wait for a minute, listening to see when he'll hit bottom. That's when Bro'er Moon starts to laugh, and laugh and laugh and laugh. "Why don't you know?" he asks, "I'm a rabbit! Born and bred in the mines!" And away he hops, laughing and laughing at Bro'er Wasp and Sis Spider.

_More stories? Goodness! We have to get you back to your family, my child! There are, of course, many more stories about Bro'er Moon and his friends, but I'm not sure I'd be able to tell them all in one day. Come, you can sit on my shoulder and we will walk down to your home. On the way, perhaps you'd care to tell me what it was that frightened you so last night? It can't have been just the storm. Nightmares? Well maybe I shouldn't tell you any more ghost stories! No? Oh, you can handle them, can you? Well we'll see. Hold on tightly, I do not want you to fall off! Let us be on our way._

**If you have any particular stories in mind that you'd like the Elder to retell, let me know! I, for one, had a marvelous time adapting the Brer Rabbit stories to a Cybertronian sound. I used to know "Brer Rabbit and the Briar Patch" by heart, including the ways it would change a little every time my father told it. But then, that's the nature of oral folktales, I suppose.**


	10. Sam and the Warship and other tales

**Hello, my friends! It has been some time since I updated this story, has it not? Then again, with as many unfinished tales as I have begun, it is difficult to split my attention equally between them all. (A little like parenthood, I suppose). I have received no requests for particular stories, and so I shall take up two classic tales that have been retold in both European cultures and America.**

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_Well, my young friend, we're nearly to your part of the city, aren't we? Now, there is a face that I know. Come, Little One, and meet a friend of mine. Good day to you, Jazz. How are you? Ah, yes. You remember our little friend from the Archives. Thank you, incidentally, for keeping that matter between us. It would hardly do for the council of elders to begin snickering every time I enter the chamber! Well, go on, Little One: introduce yourself! It's alright, he's the mech who got you out of that tight spot last week. Ah, well. It seems my young one is shy today. Before I forget, will you take this to the central archives, Jazz? I think I shall not go in today. No, no. I shall visit my daughter-in-law instead. Sudden? Well am I not allowed to change my mind at my age? _

_Ha! Speak for yourself, my friend! And a pleasant morning to you as well! Well, let us keep moving. I'm sure your family is wondering where you've been. They may be out looking for you as we speak! Indeed, there they are now. How did I know? Why, child! The resemblance is uncanny! Yes, yes, all is well. Here we are, safe and sound. The cause? Oh, you'll have to ask the young one yourself. I must ask you, however, that you keep a closer watch on what your family is learning. Sparkeaters are not something to take lightly, do you understand? No, my friend, there is no need for that. I'm sure it will not happen again? I thought as much. Little One, what is it? Oh, no, my child, I do not think that at all! Humans are very brave, I'm sure you know. Yes they are. No, I'm older. Don't argue. Very well, shall I prove it?_

Sam and the Trypticon

Once upon a time, and I'll let you guess where, a young man lived with his parents. Times were hard and they did not have the money they needed to buy food. So they told their son, "Sam, you must sell your car." He was distraught, of course, because even though his car was a rattling death trap that barely moved, it was his first car and he was quite attached to it. Still, Sam would rather his family had food, and so he reluctantly drove the car into town to sell it. As he pulled into a parking lot, he was met by an old man in a yellow hard hat. "Afternoon, son," he said, "Selling that car, are you?" Sam sighed and confirmed the old man's guess. "Well, I'll buy it from you for five transmitters," said the man. Sam was confused. Five transmitters? What kind of payment was that?!

Still, it was probably a better price than anything else he was liable to get for the old rust bucket, so he politely thanked the man and was given five tiny crystal radios. "Maybe I can sell these," Sam thought. The old man in the hard hat seemed to read his mind. "Not so fast!" he cried, "You mustn't sell those! Take them home, boy. If you throw them down on a clear night, you'll activate them and your fortunes will certainly change!" Now, Sam was a good-hearted young man, but he was also a little bit naïve, and did not see anything potentially worrying about the man's words. He cheerfully headed home with the five transmitters in his hands.

His mother was furious when she saw them. "Why didn't you sell it to a dealership!?" she shouted, and slapped the radios from Sam's hands. They hit the floor with a clatter, and little red lights began to blink on them. Frowning, Sam took them outside, away from his disgruntled parents. Outside, he watched in astonishment as the five transmitters shot a beacon of light high into the sky. With a mighty rumble, a long lift-tube descended into the back yard. Sam was very curious. He went inside and picked up a flashlight and a pocketknife, and headed for the lift. No sooner had he stepped inside then he was rocketing up, up, up into the air! Sam found himself inside a massive ship, so big that he looked like a little mouse alongside everything else!

Sam cautiously looked around, and suddenly heard a heartbreaking sigh. He climbed up onto a control panel to see better, and found a strange metal girl in a little cage. _Yes, I know the word is "femme", but Sam lived in a time when our peoples didn't know very much about each other yet._ Sam jumped across a gap to the next panel and asked, "What's wrong?" The femme looked up, startled. "Are you a human?" she asked. Sam answered that he was, and the femme cried out, "Oh, you must leave this place at once! The captain of this ship is a very wicked Decepticon named Trypticon, and he will surely kill you!" But Sam had no time to run, for suddenly the floor began to shake, and a loathsome voice echoed through the ship: **Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum! I sense the blood of human scum! Be he living, or passed on, his blood will make my energon!** Yes, it was Trypticon, and in his madness, he had convinced himself that humans were food for Cybertronians.

Sam slipped through the bars of the femme's cage and hid behind her. "There's no human here, Trypticon," she said sweetly, "Your sensors must be malfunctioning." The giant Decepticon glared suspiciously at her, and lowered himself into a chair. "Sing!" he commanded the mini-bot. For this was no ordinary femme, she had been designed to have the most beautiful singing voice in all the galaxy. She traveled from world to world, giving concerts, but the selfish Trypticon had kidnapped her and locked her away so that only he could hear her music. The crafty mini-bot sang her loveliest lullaby, soothing the monster into an uneasy recharge.

Sam crept out of the cage and used his pocketknife to pick the lock, for Trypticon was too stingy to use an electronic lock. "Go down the lift," he whispered to the singer, "And hide with my parents. I have something to do!" And he sent her away. As soon as she was safely in the lift, Sam turned to the sleeping giant. There was no way he was going to let someone like Trypticon fly about, terrorizing his people! He took the batteries out of his flashlight and cut them open with his knife. Very, very carefully, he tiptoed up to Trypticon's helm and poured the battery acid into his optics. What a rude awakening for the mighty Decepticon!

Sam jumped down from the control panel and ran as fast as he could to the lift. Roaring with pain, the blinded Trypticon stumbled after him. When he got to the bottom and out into his yard, Sam called for his father and the neighbors to shoot the lift tube down. Well, something that big doesn't hover in a yard without the government hearing about it, and besides the frightened neighbors, there were three army helicopters ready to fire. The lift tube was destroyed, and Trypticon came tumbling down with a crash! The ship floated harmlessly away, out of reach of all, but the remains of the Decepticon were confiscated by some curiously dressed men with sunglasses. Sam and his family quickly forgot the entire episode, but strangely enough, they received a large sum of money from a man in black the next day, solving their financial problems. Although, Sam still needed a car, but how he found one is another story entirely!

_You see, I have stories about brave humans, too! Who knows, perhaps one day I'll be telling stories about you! Good day Little One, and next time tell your family before you come to visit!_

_This place is very close to my son's home. Ah, and I see there are two little rascals loose in the yard! Good morning, Sparklings! Why no, I didn't. Are you going to tell me? Really? Well, where is your Carrier? There you are! What is this the little ones tell me about some important news? You aren't jesting with me? Congratulations my dear! Does my son know yet? Oh, he doesn't. Well I won't spoil the surprise. I'm sure you are tired: why don't I take these two rapscallions off your servos for the afternoon? Right, come along, you two! We are going to the gardens. Hm? Yes, dear one, you __do__ look like a princess today. Here now, young mech, don't say that to your sister, that isn't kind! You don't want to end up like Bad Menasor, do you?_

_Hm. Well, I just don't know, you don't seem in the mood for a story. Oh, alright. Apologize to your little sister and I'll tell it. Now you, give your brother a hug. Go on. That's better: siblings shouldn't fight. Go ask your great-uncle some time why we don't fight: I'm not telling that story today! Oh good heavens, no! You can't ask your sire to tell it! He wasn't even born yet for most of it! Now look, you've distracted me. What story was I going to tell? Oh yes, that's right._

Good Mirage and Bad Menasor: Or, the Talking Cubes

Well, long ago in the wilder parts of Cybertron, there lived a grumpy old mech and his mean-spirited son Menasor, and his sister's son Mirage. Now, Mirage was kind and did all the work in their home, though his uncle and cousin were not kind to him. One day, Menasor complained that his energon reserves were low (they weren't at all) and he would only be happy if he had energon from Beta's Well in the scrap yards. Well Menasor's sire ordered young Mirage to go, even though the journey was hazardous. Mirage left without a cross word, and made his way to the scrap yards.

When he came to Beta's Well and leaned down with the bucket, he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye. It was an old, old femme, so covered in rust that her original color was unrecognizable. Instead of turning aside in horror, Mirage asked, "What can I do for you, Grandcarrier?" The old femme smiled and said, "Give me a drink of energon from the well, youngun." Mirage hastened to obey and held the bucket for her as the ancient femme drank her fill. Light came back into her optics and she straightened her shoulders. "Follow me, youngun," she said, and ambled off into the scrap heaps. A little nervous, Mirage followed. As they went, they came across two arms battling each other in mid air. "Don't you pay mind to those," said the old femme, hurrying Mirage around them.

They went a little further and came to two helms, knocking against each other. "Don't you pay mind to those, either!" said the old one, and ushered Mirage into a little hut. "Now, youngun," she said, "You've got a good spark. I want you to go to the shed out back and look at the rows of cubes. Some will say to you, "Take me!" and others will say to you, "Don't take me!" If you obey them and break them open as you go, your troubles will be over before you reach your home." So Mirage went to the shed and saw shelves and shelves of little cubes. On the right side of the room were plain black cubes calling "Take me, Take me!" On the left side of the room were beautiful gold and silver cubes calling, "Don't take me, Don't take me!" Obediently, Mirage took a handful of the little black cubes and started for home.

When he was a third of the way there, he opened the first cube. Out popped an armor upgrade that left him shiny and healthy for the first time in many cycles. About two thirds of the way home, he opened the second cube. Out came piles of precious metals! Surprised, Mirage gathered them up and kept going. When he had nearly reached his home, he opened the third cube and out popped an pretty femme, looking as surprised as could be. She smiled at him, and he at her, and together they carried the precious metals home. When Mirage's uncle and cousin saw Mirage coming up the path, radiant as the son of a king with riches in his arms and a lovely femme at his side, they raged and stamped their pedes.

Mirage's uncle confiscated the wealth that had been given to Mirage, and made him tell them where it had come from. Young Mirage was honest, and so he told the story in its entirety. His uncle turned to Menasor. "You go down to that well," he ordered, "And wait for the old femme. You too shall have riches!" Menasor whined and complained, and dragged his pedes all the way to the well. When the old femme appeared, he greeted her politely enough, with a bucket of energon already drawn. The ancient one was suspicious, but motioned for him to follow her. The greedy mech hurried after her until they came to the two arms fighting in mid-air. "What's wrong with _you_?" he asked rudely, knocking them down. The old femme scowled but didn't say a word. They kept going until they came to the two helms knocking into each other. Menasor gave them each a vicious kick, sending them flying into the piles of junk. The old femme's optics darkened.

When they came to her hut, she did not invite him inside. "Go to the shed behind my shack," she said, "And pick three cubes." She warned him not to take the ones that said, "Don't take me," but when Menasor saw that these were the most beautiful, he thought that she must be hoarding them for herself. So he took three of the gold and silver cubes and started for home without even thanking the femme. Halfway home, he decided he was tired of waiting and opened the first one. Out came a vicious cyber-dog that clamped its teeth into his leg and would not let go. Angrily, Menasor dragged it with him most of the way home, then opened the second one. Out came a swarm of scraplets! The cyber-dog fled in terror, and Menasor followed suit. When he got to his front door, he opened the third in the sight of his sire. Nothing seemed to happen. When Menasor opened his mouth to say so, rust and bolts came falling out.

Horrified, the grumpy mech took Menasor and moved to the city to find a medic. No matter what they tried, for the rest of his days rust and bolts fell form his mouth every time he spoke. Mirage, on the other hand, became the pretty femme's sparkmate and lived happily ever after.

_You know, I think that's the seventh time I've told you two that story. You really like that one, do you not? Yes, I like it too. Who was I with earlier? Oh, that was a young human friend of mine. No, no you go to a different school. Well, what would you like to do today? Your Carrier needs her rest: once your new brother or sister comes, she'll have little enough of it! You want to go and visit your sire at the capitol? Well, I don't see why not. Provided he isn't too busy, we'll stop by and say hello. Remember now, Sparklings, you're not to tell him about the new sibling: that's your Carrier's job. Oh indeed? Well one of these days you're both going to be too big to ride on my shoulders! Oh, could those optics get any bigger? Very well, up you get! Come along then, next stop, the capitol!_

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**Is there any particular story you want to hear? Let me know!**


	11. The Tale of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe

_Good evening, young ones. It's only me today, I'm afraid. As it happens, Aspen had to leave this morning on a historical tour of the Beast Wars for a project of hers. She sends her apologies and asked me to address you directly today rather than tell a story through my grandsparklings or the little red sparkling or my little human friend. Yes, I know you are there. I can see each of you; hello! Now then, Angel Heart, I believe you asked that I tell the story of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe and the Energon House? Very well, are you all comfortable? Good. Let me see...it happened a long time ago..._

The Story of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe

Once upon a time, there were two little mechs named Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. They were twin brothers, and beloved of all who knew them. Almost all. You see, their Carrier had died in a tragic accident when they were just sparklings, and their grief-stricken Sire worried that he wouldn't be able to properly care for his sons on his own. When Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were younglings, their Sire asked his late sparkmate's sister to come and help him raise the twins. At first, the two little mechs were excited that their aunt was coming to live with them, but they soon discovered that she was a sour-tempered, jealous femme. She couldn't stand that their red and yellow finish was so much brighter and shinier than hers, and that the twins' Sire always saw to their needs before his and hers. She tried to make life miserable for the younglings, but Sunstreaker gave her as much grief as he got, and Sideswipe had a way of making the unexpected happen.

There came a time when the province ran dangerously low on energon. Every family was forced to ration their supplies as much as possible, and some died of starvation. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's Sire began giving his sister-in-law and his sons all of his portion, and his processor began to grow as weak as his frame. The aunt took advantage of his lack of clear judgment to enact a terrible scheme. "Brother of mine," she said, "Look at your sons. They will starve soon, and we after them, because there is not enough energon. We must take them to the outskirts of town and leave them there. Perhaps they will come across food if they don't have to worry about us." Little did she know that Sideswipe had overheard every word she said. He ran back to his brother and the two whispered long into the night about what ought to be done.

The next morning, the femme, the mech, and the younglings set out on an expedition to the edge of the province. Every few moments, Sunstreaker would turn around and drop a pebble on the ground. "Sunstreaker, you lazy youngling! Why do you dawdle?" his aunt called. "Oh, I am waving goodbye to my Cyber-cat!" the crafty child answered, "See her on the roof?" The angry femme frowned at him. "That's nothing but sunlight on the metal! Keep up with your brother!" And so it went until they reached a deep canyon and stopped for energon. The twins were exhausted and low on reserves, and soon fell into a recharge to preserve their supply of energon. As soon as they were asleep, their wicked aunt dragged their Sire back to the homestead, leaving the younglings behind. When the two little mechs awoke and found themselves alone, they were not worried. "Come, brother," said Sideswipe to Sunstreaker, "We will follow your trail of pebbles!" What neither of them knew was that only hours before, a Seeker with a fondness for shiny things had been flying overhead. When he saw the trail of pebbles glowing like pearls in the moonlight, he stopped and gathered up every single one.

Upon realizing that their way home was gone, Sunstreaker raged and swore vengeance on their aunt. "Patience, my brother," Sideswipe cautioned, "First we must actually get home without starving on the way." Aimlessly, they wandered in the dark for some time before they found themselves walking in the canyon. For many miles, there was nothing, but then they caught a glow of blue ahead. They hurried towards it and found the unbelievable: a little hut made completely of sweet energon cubes! The little ones whooped with joy and began cramming the treats into their mouths as quickly as they could. Giggling, the younglings brushed energon crumbs from their armor and painted each other's faceplates with the sticky blue liquid. Suddenly, a soft voice floated out of the window.

_Nibble, nibble, Scraplet small,_

_Who's that nibbling at my wall?_

At first, they said nothing, sitting quietly in fright. Then Sunstreaker, who thought himself enormously clever, answered, "_'Tis nothing but the tempest wild, the rain's mother and the wind's own child._" He was answered with a laugh, and an odd femme hobbled out to meet them. She was bent over so they couldn't tell her height, and walked with the help of eight thin legs. "Well, well! Visitors!" she smiled and held her arms out. "Do come in, my little friends! Oh, but you look half-starved. I'll soon fix that!" She invited the twins into her cottage and soon had them sitting down to the heartiest meal either of them had ever had. After they had refueled completely, she carried them both to a spare room and showed them two recharge bunks. "There now, I'm sure you'll be sleepy with your tanks so full!" she cooed, "Would you like me to tuck you in?" Well this was something they hadn't had since their Carrier was alive! They shyly agreed, and the strange femme soon tucked them in with unusual web-like blankets. She sang a haunting lullaby that made no sense to either of them, then left them to sleep.

When Sunstreaker awoke, his twin was no longer beside him. Nervously, he struggled out of the sticky wrapping around him and tiptoed into the next room. To his horror, his brother was trapped in a cage suspended from the ceiling! "Brother! What has happened!" he cried out. Their hostess appeared behind him and shoved him away from the cage, scowling. "Here, get cooking!" she growled at the little yellow mech, handing him a recipe holopad and a bucket of raw energon. You see, the strange femme was one of the Thirsty: a twisted, corrupted spark that lives on the energon of others. She planned to pump Sideswipe's frame full of energon, then consume both younglings. She forced Sunstreaker to make meals for his brother, while he was barely given enough to survive.

Then one day, she decided that she was tired of waiting and ordered Sunstreaker to prepare a stasis pod, so that she could drain their energon without them struggling. The little mech had been waiting for a chance like this. He dawdled, not having to feign exhaustion, and pretended to struggle with the mechanisms. "I don't know how to check the levels!" he said innocently, "What am I supposed to do?"

"Oh, you little idiot!" the femme snarled, "Watch what I do!" She bent over and leaned into the pod. Swiftly, Sunstreaker pushed her the rest of the way in and closed the pod. He freed his brother and they gathered as much energon as three cargo units could hold before making their slow way home...in the daylight, this time. When they arrived home, their Sire was overjoyed to see them, having regained most of his mental stability, but he had been too weak to go and search for them. As it turned out, the wicked aunt had died of energon deprivation while they were gone, having ensured that her brother-in-law survived in her fit of remorse.

The Thirsty Femme was reported to the authorities, and a band of warriors from a distant world arrived within days to end her terrible ways once and for all. The energon in the house was distributed to the poor and needy in the province, and Sunstreaker and Sideswipe and their Sire lived in peace thereafter.

_My goodness! Is that the time? How ever did it get so late? Well, I fear I must return to the archives for a time, my friends. Have you any other tale you wish me to tell? If you tell me before I go, I can look for it while working in the library. Mind you all get some sleep: I know that humans require a fair amount of it. I find myself having to get after Aspen continuously for dodging her recharge cycle. Good night, human friends, and no dreaming about vampire femmes!_


	12. The Story of Redrust

**Hey look, guys! I'm aliiiive! Good heavens, it's been **_**far**_**too long since I've updated this story. I haven't had any requests for any particular stories, so I guess the Elder will tell one from my inventory. Points for anyone who guesses the tale! (Extra points if you catch the line from Bram Stoker's "Dracula")**

**Also, the Elder will be at the Archives, not at home, tonight should anyone wish to go trick-or-treating in the Eden colony. And yes, he does have a rather large supply of sweets for anyone who stops by. Just don't tell Jazz, or he'll scarf them all.**

_Well hello there! Ah, it would seem there is a very small Optimus Prime at my door. And what are you dressed as? Oh, Princess Buttercup. I ought to have guessed. And I see a few Bumblebees tonight and—oh! Hello there, Little One! This is quite a group! Last stop of the night, eh? Well, why don't you come in? Yes, you may eat those in here, just mind you don't get the books sticky. Oh, you want __**me**__ to tell a story? Well, alright. What kind of story would you like to hear this Halloween night, my young friends? A scary one? By the Allspark, Little One, didn't you learn from last time? Oh indeed? Well if you're all quite certain... If you get frightened, I will stop...please, do not climb under anyone's armor if you are nervous. We had to make that a rule in here recently, didn't we? Are you all settled then? Should we wait for your Sires and Carriers to sit down? No? Very well. Let us begin!_

Redrust

Long, long ago in a faraway colony, there lived a femme named..._What shall we call her? Pumpkin. Well...that's an...interesting name, Elita. Why Pumpkin? Oh, because of Halloween. I see. Very well, shall we call her Pumpkin, sparklings? Then Pumpkin she shall be. _Pumpkin was kind and pretty, and she lived with her Carrier, her Sire, her sister and four brothers in a large house. They had a very mysterious neighbor. No one could remember his name, but he always looked as though he needed a decontamination bath, so everyone called him Redrust. Redrust never let anyone into his home, but he was wealthy and charming and often sent presents to Pumpkin. Pumpkin was a little unnerved by the mech, but she tried very hard to see past his outward appearance. "Who knows," she thought to herself, "He may be the kindest of sparks under the rust."

Time passed, and it became more and more obvious that Redrust was interested in Pumpkin. Still, he made her nervous. Then one day, he came to her and said, "Beautiful femme, I must travel far away this week. Will you do me the honor of watching over my home while I am gone? You may enter any room save those that are locked where, of course, you will not wish to go." And he gave her a bright key, warning her not to let anything happen to it. Pumpkin agreed out of both kindness and curiosity, for she had always wondered what lay hidden behind the walls of Redrust's estate. It was a lavish house filled with every luxury and convenience imaginable. The first day, Pumpkin found a maintenance room that left her sparkling and shimmering. Afterwards, she passed a small, rusty, locked door. She was curious, but told herself not to enter it. The second day, she discovered a beautiful crystal garden and watched the sunlight play through the stones for hours. On her way back inside, she passed the rusted door again, and her longing to see what was inside grew stronger.

Once again, she controlled herself and moved on. By the fourth day, she had explored almost every inch of the marvelous house save for the locked door. At last, she could contain her curiosity no more, and unlocked the door. The room inside was dark and cold, unlike anything else in the house. Pumpkin walked inside nervously and looked around, but could not see anything. Suddenly, something dripped from the ceiling onto her helm. She jumped and looked up, and soon wished she hadn't! Hanging from the ceiling were seven husks of mechs and femmes, dripping their energon onto the floor. In horror, Pumpkin dropped the key and fled. It wasn't until she had washed the energon from her armor that she realized she'd forgotten the key. Pumpkin forced herself to go back into the terrible chamber to retrieve it, but the once bright key was now stained bright blue with energon.

She took it to the maintenance room and tried to scrub the stains away, but they only spread further. Pumpkin began to panic and raced to the upstairs guest chamber, which faced her sister's window. "My sister, o my sister!" she cried out. Her sister, whose name was _you want her to be called Windblade? Oh, alright, but only if she agrees to it! _Windblade called, "What is it Pumpkin? You sound terrified!" The femme explained what she had just discovered and how Redrust was due home at any time. "I am certain he will kill me!" she sobbed. Windblade did not panic. "Get ahold of yourself, my sister," she scolded, "We have time yet! Can you leave the house?" Pumpkin shook her helm. "The gates are coded to Redrust's spark signature." He had said he was locking the gates for her safety, but Pumpkin no longer believed that. "Well then," Pumpkin's sister mused, "Lock yourself in that chamber and do not open the door for anyone. I will bring our brothers back from the hunt and we will storm the mansion together."

As Windblade flew to find their brothers, Redrust returned. "Where are you?" he called to Pumpkin, but she dared not answer. He wandered the house until he came to the maintenance chamber where she had left the stained key. Enraged, he hurried up the stairs to the guest room. "Pumpkin, are you there?" he called in a falsely peaceful voice. "I do not feel well," she lied, "Please, let me rest." "No, I do not imagine you feel well after looking into the locked room," said Redrust sternly. He pushed the key under the door, energon stains visible. "Now you will join the seven already there!" And he began to hack the doorlock. "Wait!" Pumpkin cried, spying her sister and brothers over the top of the hill, "Give me an hour to make my peace with my Maker!" Reluctantly, Redrust agreed and stepped back. In the room, Pumpkin leaned out the window and waved her arms frantically. Windblade hovered outside the balcony and lifted her sister over the wall, and the four mechs broke down the gate with one swing of a mighty wrecking ball.

Redrust screeched in dismay as the outraged brothers came upon him trying to break into Pumpkin's room. The evil mech was quickly disposed of, and the seven unfortunates laid to rest properly in the crystal garden. All of Redrust's wealth was given to Pumpkin and her family by the authorities, for he had no relatives. The house was torn down, and a cottage built on its ruins where Pumpkin lived quite happily for a long time. The end.

_Is everyone alright? I'm not sure why the power went out near the middle, but it was no plan of mine. I—oh, Little One, not again! How did you get up there? Come on, I'll catch you. There we are, that's better. It had a happy ending, dear ones! Don't fret! Well, does this mean I can't tell you scary stories anymore? No? I am not certain I understand why you seem to like being frightened. Well, I suspect it is bedtime for many of you. Goodnight, my little ones, and fear no nightly noises!_

**From the Elder, and all Aspen's other characters, we wish everyone a Happy Halloween!**


	13. The Minicon's Garden Party

**Hey everyone! Of the two tales today, the first is not a folk tale. Rather, it comes from a book called ****_James to the Rescue_**** by Janet Noonan. When I was knee-high to a scraplet, I used to make my mother read that book to me and my sister over and over until we'd memorized her vocal inflections and could pretend to read it ourselves. I found myself remembering the story this morning and realized that the moral of ****_James to the Rescue_**** actually works in the Transformers universe really well. (The second story is based on an old Greek story I learned in the third grade a looong time ago!)**

_Oh! Hello, Little One. Why, what's wrong? Good heavens no! Why would you ever think that, my child? That you are human does not make you less than your Cybertronian classmates! Who told you that?! Well, they are wrong, dear one. It takes all kinds of people to make a community, you know. Just like the Senator learned! What Senator? Oh, it happened a long, long time ago on Cybertron..._

The Senator's Garden Party

One day, long ago, a Senator from the High Council was walking in his crystal garden, admiring the way the morning sun shimmered through the rocks. Suddenly, he saw a delicate figure dancing among the rainbows. It was a little minicon, no bigger than you! The Senator stopped what he was doing to watch the tiny being dance, waving her willowy arms to catch the light. "Ah," he said, "What a fine thing it is to be online this morning, and to watch such a lovely creature enjoy my garden." He would have stayed there for hours, but he remembered that he had an important meeting to go to that day. "But suppose my little minicon gets lonely after I leave?" he thought, "She may fly away, and my garden would be less bright!" And so he called for his gigantic servant, Pathos. "Pathos!" he said, "Go out into the wide, wide world and bring me back someone who is just like _her_!" Pathos bowed deeply, transformed, and flew over the wall.

He came back in a flash!

He opened his hands, and there on his palms was a tired, dusty, miner drone. "Dear me, _no_!" the Senator cried, "I said someone just like _her_! Not a common worker!" Pathos set the grounder down in the garden and nodded. "Now go out into the wide, wide world and bring me back someone who is just like _her_!" the Senator scolded. Pathos bowed politely, transformed, and flew over the roof.

He came back in a flash!

Surely, the Senator thought, he'd gotten it right this time! "Who have you brought for my minicon?" he asked. Pathos opened his hands, and there on his dented palms was a shaking, quaking, Insecticon. "Dear me, _no_!" the Senator snapped. "This will never do! I _said_ bring someone just like _her_! Not some nasty beetle-bot!" Pathos sighed and placed the Insecticon on the ground with the miner drone and the minicon. "Go out into the  
wide, wide world," the Senator ordered, one last time, "And bring me back someone who is just like _her_!" Pathos bowed slightly, transformed, and flew over the villa.

He came back in a flash.

This time, the Senator did not hold much hope that his servant had found another minicon. "Let's see it," he grumbled. There, on his dented and slightly charred palms, was an angry predacon. "Dear me, _no_!" the Senator yelped, stumbling back, "He might burn my delicate minicon and she would never come back to my garden!" Pathos set the Predacon down and waited patiently while the Senator scolded him. After a while, the politician heard singing. Startled, he turned around and found a most unusual sight. The minicon was sitting on the miner drone's shoulder, passing energon cubes to the Predacon and the Insecticon, each one laughing and talking together. Pathos smiled. "Why, Pathos!" the Senator whispered, "What is this I see? The minicon didn't want to be with someone just like her after all?" Pathos shook his helm. "Friendship does not come from the shape of one's frame, or the caste of one's birth, or the energon in one's veins, or the color of one's armor," he said. "If we did not hold out our hands to others, we should forever be isolated and miserable!" He smiled down at his employer. "Perhaps this is why, when each Spark crawls from the Well, we are told to love that our joy may be full."

The Senator considered his words, and then he smiled as well. "Yes, I suppose it is." He sat down on the smooth stone with the Predacon, the Insecticon, the minicon and the miner. "Tell the Council that I won't be coming in for the meeting today, will you? Then come back out to the garden, and we will spend the day with our new friends." And ever after that, the Senator was a friend to those in lower castes, and a secret supporter of the movement against the system. He did not join the others when they demanded that the Insecticons be removed from the cities, and he stood up for the workers who were thought to stupid to be educated. He learned not to judge a mech by his frame, but by his spark.

_You know, the humans have a great many stories about that sort of thing. You will all end up learning about them in school at some point, I am sure. Oh dear, I saw your face fall when I said "school". Are you having difficulties? Detention? Why did you have detention today? I am sorry, dear one, but I do not understand. If you had not done anything wrong, why did you receive detention? Your friend left his homework at home? I don't understand, Little One. What?! You asked the teacher if he could run home and get it, and offered to take his place in detention? If I were the teacher, I'm not sure how I would react to such a statement. She took you up on it? Well, I hope your friend returned! Oh, he did. Excellent! That's quite a friendship you two have if you were both willing to do that for each other. You know, I remember a story very similar to what you two did..._

Prowl and Jazz

When Sentinel Zeta Prime ruled Cybertron, he was harsh and cruel. He was not loved, or admired, for he believed only in the strictest of laws. Prowl, a young tactician in the ranks of his army, began to be dissatisfied with his tyranny. Even though Prowl loved the law and had no wish to break it, he recognized that Sentinel was bringing his world to ruin. And so, he began to plot against him. One way or another, Sentinel found out about Prowl's treachery and sentenced him to death. Accepting his sentence, Prowl asked to be allowed to return home long enough to settle his affairs and bid his Sire and Carrier farewell. "Do you take me for a fool?" Sentinel Prime asked, "For well I know that if I let you leave, you will never return!" Standing amongst the crowd in the courtroom that day was a mech named Jazz. Almost from the day they came to their parents from the Well, Jazz and Prowl had been close, if unlikely, friends.

"Let me take his place, Sentinel Prime!" Jazz called out in the courtroom. The judges were astonished, and the crowd was moved by this display of compassion. Sentinel Zeta Prime knew that the smart thing to do would be to allow the request, but he was still angry at Prowl and therefore made a cruel decision. "If your friend does not return on the day his sentence is to be passed," he warned Jazz, "You will be executed in his place." Jazz left the gallery to stand beside Prowl. "I understand," he said, but he did not take back his offer. Prowl was released and Jazz was imprisoned in his place. Sentinel Prime was convinced that he had seen the last of Prowl, and consoled his bruised ego with the knowledge that at least someone was going to be executed for defying him. Days passed, and despite the jeers and the mockery of his guards, Jazz waited calmly. "Prowl will come back," he assured them, "You may have no doubt of it."

The morning of the execution came, but there was not sign of Prowl.

The afternoon of the execution came, and Jazz was moved from his cell to the arena, but Prowl did not come.

The evening of the execution came and Jazz walked to the middle of the arena with his helm held high. He paused in front of Sentinel Prime and said, "At least my friend shall live." And he continued to the swordsmech.

The executioner raised his blade, then a voice cut through the crowd. "STOP!"

It was Prowl! He was covered in rust, dents, and appeared to be missing one of his shoulder guards. Prowl ran to his friend and pushed him to the side, then knelt before the swordsmech. "Your pardon, Prime," he said to Sentinel, "I did not intend to be so tardy. You see, on the way here I had to cross the Sea of Rust. My ship was ambushed by Slicers and I was cast into the sea. I have just finished swimming the rest of the way here." Sentinel was flabbergasted. So astonished by the strength of Jazz and Prowl's friendship was he that he had little choice but to free them both and grant Prowl a pardon. If he had not, it is likely that he would have been overthrown long before Megatron ever rose through the ranks of the gladiators in Kaon.

_The ordeal only reinforced the friendship of Jazz and Prowl, and to this day they remain as close as brothers. You may meet them yourself, one day, if you ever wander through the Archives in the mid-afternoon. Prowl likes to do his paperwork there, and Jazz likes to bother him. That's one of the reasons I keep sweets at my kiosk: sometimes I have to bribe him so Prowl can get things done. Yes, he does act like a sparkling sometimes, doesn't he? Well, I'll tell him you said so. It's only fair, after all. He told my oldest son about the sticky situation you got into, so I get to tell you something embarrassing about him! Ah, is that the friend you were telling me about? Well, he looks none the worse for wear for his detention. Why don't you go see how he is? Run along now, Little One. I'll still be here tomorrow._


	14. Cinderflint

**At the request of Anodythe, today the Elder presents a fairytale that nearly all of us are familiar with in some capacity or another. (But, in this case, familiarity does ****_not_****breed contempt. It just makes us love the story all the more.)**

**And can I just say that I love getting ideas from you guys? Seriously, there are ****_way_****too many folk tales out there for me to choose by myself.**

_Forgive my lateness, the Council kept the meeting overlong. How is she? Ah! Let me see! She's beautiful, my son. May I hold her? Now now, I know how to hold a sparkling! Welcome to the universe, Dearest, I'm your Grandsire! Have you met your older brother and sister yet? I think you must have, since you keep staring at them. Well, come over here, you two! What do you think, sparklings? Should I tell her a story? I should? Well what do your parents think? That settles it then! I think perhaps she ought to hear her Grandcarrier's favorite tale. Yes, I miss her too. I think she would want your little sister to know her favorite story!_

Cinderflint

Once upon a time, on a faraway planet, there lived a femme named Falcia. Her Sire and Carrier were killed in battle when she was very young, and she was sent to live with an unpleasant femme and her two ungrateful daughters. They treated Falcia like a servant, forcing her to do everything they were too lazy to do themselves. She didn't even have a berth of her own: she slept in a corner by the generator. Her once-bright armor became grey and sooty, and the others took to calling her Cinderfemme. The younger of the landlady's daughters was kinder than her sister, and she called Falcia Cinderflint instead. Falcia bore the abuse patiently, for she believed it was better to answer good for evil.

One day, the young governor of the colony held a celebration for the anniversary of the founding of their city. A great festival sprang up in the streets, and as the governor was handsome and unbonded to anyone, the parents in the colony each plotted to present their daughters at the banquet in hopes that he would fall in love with one of them. The landlady and her daughters were very excited, and eagerly planned what armor upgrades they would wear. Falcia was bored of the whole thing: she wanted to try her hand at the feats of strength that would be presented at the fair. The other femmes taunted her, saying, "Servants aren't allowed to go to parties, Cinderflint!" And they left her behind. Falcia did not say a word, but after they left she was very discouraged.

As she sat in the yard scrubbing rust from old sets of armor, a shining figure appeared to her. "Falcia, my dear," it said, "Are you not going to the festival?" Falcia shook her helm. "I would look very out of place among the elite, don't you think?" she asked bitterly. The shimmering femme sighed and seated herself next to Falcia. "Why should that matter? Your spark is ten times more beautiful than any of the femmes you live with. Still, every femme deserves to know that she is lovely." She waved her hand over the smaller femme's helm and her sooty, basic frame transformed into gleaming rose colored armor perfect for flight. Over her helm, a gold-trimmed visor was fitted. "Who _are_ you?!" Falcia cried in disbelief. "I am Solus Prime, a friend of your Carrier's." was the answer. "Now, are you going to the festival?"

"Oh yes! Yes I am!" Falcia exclaimed joyfully, "Thank you, Solus Prime!" She transformed and prepared to soar away, but the Prime raised a hand in warning. "Before you go, remember this: your armor upgrades will only last until the sun is at its zenith. At the stroke of noon, the spell will be broken, and all shall be as it was before." Falcia acknowledged her words and rocketed away to the fair. She wandered among the stalls and took in the sights eagerly, completely unaware of the stares she was attracting. "_Who is that?"_ the people wondered, "_She must be the daughter of someone very important! See how her armor shines?_" At last, Falcia came to the contests she had so been looking forward to. The main contender was a bulky red and yellow mech with a visor obscuring his faceplate. No one knew who he was, only that he had bested all comers thus far. With a spring in her step, Falcia vaulted into the ring. "Care for another round?" she asked genially.

The mystery mech bowed politely and settled into a crouch at the beginning of the obstacle course, assuming that the newcomer femme would not want to damage her beautiful armor. He was caught off guard as Falcia launched herself into a flying tackle and knocked him to the ground, then pushed herself off of his helm with a leap and darted into the course. There commenced the closest race the audience had ever seen, and the landlady and her daughters gaped openly at the strange and beautiful femme who was beating the reigning champion. In the end, it was a tie, and Falcia lightly punched her opponent's shoulder. "That was fun!" she gasped, winded, "I wish I could stay for another round."

The mech lifted his visor, eliciting gasps from the crowd. "Aw, can't you run just one more race with me?" he laughed, "You're the first one whose actually given me a challenge!" Falcia was tempted, but she had been keeping an optic on the sun's progress, and it was very nearly at its zenith. "I'm sorry," she smiled ruefully, "But I have to go!" The young governor stretched. "Well, are you at least going to tell me your designation?" he asked. Just then, it struck high noon, and Falcia took off like a shot, leaving her gold-trimmed visor in her haste. Governor Redline picked up the fallen piece of armor and stared after the fleeing figure, confused and more than a little star-struck. When the landlady and her two ungrateful daughters returned home, they complained amongst themselves. "We never even got to _see_ the governor!" one complained, "He spent all his time in the obstacle arena with some mystery femme!" Falcia smiled a secret smile and continued with her chores.

The next day, a decree went out that the governor would be traveling from household to household, and the femme who fit the visor would be his sparkmate. The citizens fairly twittered with excitement! Falcia's home was no different. "Cinderflint, polish my armor!" "Cinderflint, clean the sitting room!" "Cinderflint! Cinderflint! Cinderflint!" When at last all the chores had been completed, they shut her out of the house, saying, "Servants shouldn't see noble governors!" Eventually, the Redline arrived with a herald and the visor. First he tried it on the elder sister, but her helm was too narrow. Then he tried it on the younger, but her helm was just a _little_ too wide. "Oh, we had that resized after yesterday," their Carrier lied, but it was too obvious to have been taken seriously. Dejected, the governor slipped out the back door with the visor in his hand.

Suddenly, he looked up into a beautiful pair of optics and a smile that seemed oh-so-familiar. "Hi there!" Falica greeted him, "Did you get dragged out here with the governor?" Since he had left out the back door, she assumed that he was a servant like her. She glanced down and saw the visor in his servos. "Oh! I was wondering where that went!" she exclaimed. Delicately, she took it from him and slipped in back in place on her own helm. "There, that's better." she sighed, even as the gold trimming faded back into her normal dirty armor. Redline beamed. "So _you're_ the femme who raced me yesterday!" He took her servos in his. "Will you marry me?" Falcia laughed. "Hold on a minute! We barely know each other!"

Redline flushed. "Oh Primus, for shame! I do not even know your name, dear lady! Will you tell me?" She curtsied prettily. "I am Falcia." "And I am Redline." They blushed and giggled like a pair of younglings in the shabby back yard of the house, and that is where the herald found them. Falcia was very surprised to know that Redline was the governor of the colony. "Would you still have competed against me if you had known?" Redline asked softly. She took a moment to think. "Yes," she admitted, "But I don't think I would have tackled you at the start." That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship that became a beautiful relationship between sparkmates, and they lived happily ever after.

The end.

_Oh look! She's fallen asleep. Here, son. She'll want her Carrier when she wakes up, I suspect. Alright, come on you two little rascals! Your Great Uncle is on his way with your Aunt and Uncles, you know. They're coming to see your new sister as well, but I'll bet if you catch them in the corridor, you can get them to take you to the sweets shop! Go on, off with you! I hear them on the stair! What? Oh, come now, my dears. You know as well as I that my brother cannot bring himself to say "no" to them! Yes, I suspect that they will not be sleeping tonight, but as you will both be here with the new sparkling, that's your brother's problem, not yours!_


End file.
